After Evening Activites
by Yuri-Sempai
Summary: Margaery frets over Sansa after one of their most recent flings leaves Sansa's hip injured. WARNING: Characters may be slightly OC, nothing to worry over though. Sansaery
**This is set when Joffery and Margaery are still alive. This fanfic is part of the effort to increase the Game of Thrones Fan fiction archive, as such a popular TV series shouldn't have such an empty fanfic base! Please help us out and create and post your own GoT stories! _(Uploaded for a friend)_**

 **There is no lemons in this fanfic, as this is about the aftermath of Sansa and Margaery's "fun" ;)**

 **I'd also like to apologize for any spelling mistakes or errors in character's names, it's been a while since I've watched GoT.**

 **I don't own GoT, but I thought that was obvious so...**

 **Without further ado, here is "Afternoon activities".**

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"Do you need another pillow?" Margaery asked, hovering close enough to the red head that the other young woman could feel the warmth of her breath against her forehead, slightly stirring a strand of her hair. Margaery's own hair was escaping from the messy braid she had haphazardly tossed it into, and deep worry lines furrowed her brow as she peered down at the youth, biting her lower lip. "You should lay on your stomach, there will be less pressure on your side if you do. Don't try to move on your own if you do, I'll help you."

"Margaery," Sansa exhaled, giving the older woman a still patient, but rather wearied smile. This was day two of this sort of treatment, and as endearing as it had been first, it was growing tiring after her continual insistence upon maintaining it, not to mention the suspicious glances they were beginning to receive from Joffery's vanguard. "Stop worrying, I'm fine. I assure you. "

"You are not fine, we had to request medical aid. Any situation that requires medical aid means you are most certainly are not 'fine'." Margaery contradicted, shaking her head vehemently as she picked up a cushion, then set it very carefully against Sansa's side. "Do you need a blanket? Or are you hot? If you get too hot and you're sweating, that can't be good for it, the salt in sweat could irritate it, even give it an infection. But then if you're cold and you shiver, that could jar it and hurt you."

"Margaery," Sansa tried again, but Margaery carried on as though she hadn't said a word.

"Do you want something to eat or drink? I'll call for the servants. You don't need to use the bathroom, do you? I'm sure there's a chamber pot somewhere around here..."

"Margaery," Sansa said, more firmly this time, and she started to sit up, reaching out a hand to the Queen. With this small gesture, Margaery gasped, almost shrieking in response to her as she hurried forward to grasp her by the shoulders and prevent her from moving any further.

"Sansa, what are you doing, you're not supposed to be getting up like that! You know the healer said you need are to be bed ridden for quite some time, so by shuffling around so much you're going to make this worse for yourself"

"Margaery," Sansa repeated, but this time her voice was stern, and the hardened look to her blue eyes showed the royal that she meant business. Only to Sansa would Margaery have responding to this in the manner she did- to stop talking, hold still, and look down, waiting for her to continue speaking.

"Margaery, I want you to stop fretting over me like I am some mere child" Sansa instructed her, her voice softer, but no less firm. She waited as the other girl obeyed, her face losing some of its tension just slightly, and nodded her approval when she had finished.

After a slight hesitation, Margaery again did as she had been instructed, and Sansa entwined her fingers with hers, squeezing gently. She was unsurprising when Margaery squeezed back, seeming to take comfort from the touch, as she nearly always did when no other could give her peace of mind.

"First of all, Margaery, the healer said to rest my hip, not to completely restrain me," Sansa reminded her. "I can still move around and walk when I need to. I'm going to be okay. It was dislocated, not broken or shattered. "

"It was my fault," Margaery mumbled, her eyes dropping again to their joined hands even as Sansa ran her thumb over the back of her hand, soothing with her touch. "I just had to try that stupid new move, and-"

"Stop," Sansa repeated, her voice quiet, but stern again, and she took hold of Magaery's chin, lifting her face up. "Margaery..." She waited until the Queen made eye contact with her, stroking her cheek tenderly with the hand that had previously been stroking the back of her hand.

"My lady," she said softly, using the endearment that came out only rarely, at times that she knew Margaery needed gentle handling and love from her the most. "It was not your fault that I got hurt."

Looking into the girl's dark, troubled gaze, seeing the way her eyes darkened at the thought of Sansa's injury, she remembered with amusement how Margaery had gasped, when they had heard the loud pop of Sansa's hip socket in Joffery's living quarters. She remembered how Margaery had flown for the chamber door, not intending to dress herself from her unclad state or get Sansa dressed and in shoes either until Sansa reminded her that even in a possible emergency, once out in public, clothing was usually not considered optional like it was at home. The Queen had quickly summoned a healer at Sansa's request, as neither of them were sufficiently covered to be public.

Looking back at Margaery now, she gently pried open one fist, stroking the indentations that the girl's longer fingernails had lift inside her palms before kissing them gently. Shaking her head, she gave a sigh, nudging her slightly with her elbow.

Sansa smiled before releasing her hand, holding out her arms to her instead. "Embrace me. I am as frail as you paint me to be."

Letting Sansa guide her back against her, she settled her head against Sansa's chest, as the red head's arms circled around her. Sansa kissed the top of her head, smiling down at her as she spoke with affection in her tone.

"Although the next time Joffery angers you, I implore you that you don't channel your rage into our.. afternoon activities."

Margaery leaned closer to Sansa's face.

"I apologize, but I detest the way he speaks of you. I detest how he expects me to engage in his monstrous methods to torment you. And besides, I've never heard you complain about it up until now."

Sansa stifled a laugh, and kissed Margeary.

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 **If anyone wants to make a lemon to go with this fanfic, feel free to message me about that.**

 **Tah-ta!**


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